


Family Dinners

by DayenuRose



Series: Untangling the Threads [6]
Category: Batgirl (Comics), Batman (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Babs has plans, Babs' apartment, Brothers, Cooking, Dinner, Family, Friendship, Jason's looking for excuses, Mention of Canonical Death, Minor Injuries, Multi, Reconciliation, mention of canonical resurrection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-10 22:10:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15958565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DayenuRose/pseuds/DayenuRose
Summary: When Dick and Babs want to bring Jason back into the family, they decide the best way to begin this process is to invite him over for dinner. Meanwhile, Jason is surprised to find he might actually sort-of want to be part of the family again...if he can figure out what that means.





	1. First Course

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason comes over for dinner at Babs' apartment for the first time. Things aren't as he expected. Babs and Dick seem to actually want him there. Who would have thought that? 
> 
>  
> 
> Takes place about a week after 'Missing Pieces.'

Please knock before breaking in. Thanks. ~babs

 

Jason stared at the note taped to the window of Babs’ apartment. That she had the gall to expect him to do exactly what he planned to do...didn’t surprise him in the least. He rapped on the window with his knuckles and waited. If he could call about three nanoseconds waiting. 

The window lock clicked open and from inside he heard Babs call. “Come in, as long as you’re Jason.”

He had no doubt that Babs knew that it was him long before he ever knocked on the window. While he hadn’t seen any cameras, he could feel their presence watching his every move. Before he, or anyone else, could change their mind, he scrambled through the window and into the apartment.

Babs curled up on the couch with a mug of coffee in one hand and a book in the other. She scarcely looked up from her reading. “Hi. Make yourself at home.”

“Did I miss dinner?” He glanced around the room. This was the first time he’d been in her apartment. He’d never really given it any thought, though now that he was standing here, he couldn’t have pictured it any other way. Her home reflected everything she loved and offered a welcoming environment. Though it was filled with books and technology, there were plenty of wide open spaces and evidence of the modifications made when she had needed an accessible apartment. 

On the far end of the couch from where Babs sat, Dick’s motorcycle helmet was perched on an end table near a vase of fresh flowers. Along one wall, a complex multi-monitor computer setup was spread over two desks. Several different programs were running on the monitors, but Jason didn’t have a clue what they were doing. Something important and Bat related, no doubt. Along another wall, there was an entertainment center that appeared almost comparable to the one Bruce owned, though scaled down to fit the smaller space. As impressive as the entertainment center was, the nearby bookshelves were truly a sight to behold. Each shelf was stacked at least two deep and more books were piled on top of the upright books filling every space the shelves had to offer. Even as full as the bookshelves were, stacks of more books were piled about the room in out of the way nooks and crannies. 

“No, we’ll eat once I finish the chapter,” she said bringing him back around to the question he’d asked earlier.

Jason was at a loss. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but it wasn’t this. He had expected Babs to chastise him. To complain that dinner was now ruined and it was entirely his fault. If she had, he could have used it as an excuse to storm out of the apartment and confirm his suspicion that she really hadn’t meant the invitation. 

Yet, she had said nothing about the fact that he was forty-five minutes late. He’d spent the last hour perched on the rooftop across the street debating whether or not he was really going to go through with this whole charade. Except, it wasn’t a charade. Not to her. Probably not for Dick either....wait. “Where’s Dickiebird?”

“Taking a nap. While last night in Gotham was mostly quiet, in Blüdhaven, not so much. It was one of those nights on patrol where everything goes just a little off. Not enough to make it a _bad_ night, but the aggravating kind where everything takes twice as long as it ought to and every step forward adds about a half dozen complications to your investigations. You know how it goes. Anyways, it kept him out until after dawn and then he had an early shift at work so he could be here in time for dinner.”

“Mm.” Jason moved to one of the bookshelves and studied its contents. He didn’t want her to see that it actually touched him that Dick had put the effort and sacrifice into being here. Jason wasn’t certain he was worth it.

Babs closed her book with a soft thwmp of pages and placed it on the coffee table. As she stood, she stretched, working the kinks out of her neck and shoulders. 

“Hey, Jason.” When he turned to look at her, she slid something out of her pocket and tossed it at him. Instinctually he caught it. Keys. “They’re for the gun safe. Use it if you want, or not. It’s up to you. Either way, the safe is yours.” 

She left him alone in the living room and headed further back into the apartment. He guessed she was headed back to wake Dick. 

Jason peeled out of his jacket and draped it over the arm of the couch. Brushing his hands over his holstered guns, he studied the lockbox sized gun safe sitting on a table. Even though he wouldn’t need them in Babs’ apartment, he didn’t want to be unarmed. In the back of his mind, he knew he was clinging onto the guns like a child clings to his security blanket. 

He shook his head and pocketed the keys. If he was going to do this dinner and family thing, he was going to do it on his terms. For now, the guns would stay. Maybe next time. Or, not.

“Jason! Glad you could make it.” Dick called as he entered the living room and greeted his brother with a hug. Babs wasn’t kidding when she said he had needed a nap. Even after the rest, he had dark circles under his eyes and the haggard expression that came from missing not one night of sleep, but rather several in a row. Despite his exhaustion, the genuine smile never left Dick’s face. When he said he was glad, he meant it. “Sorry to make you wait. You’re probably starving.” 

“What?” Jason blinked in confusion. “What the crap? I’m the one who was bloody late.”

Dick ran a hand through his hair, causing the sleep-mussed hair to fall in even greater disarray. “Oh, well, then thanks. Apparently I needed that nap. Haven’t been sleeping well lately. Is it weird that it’s easier to sleep here?”

 _What were they doing?_ It didn’t make sense. They didn’t seem to care that he was late, only that he was there. When was the last time someone actually wanted him around as Jason and not simply because he was the Red Hood and his mere presence could scare the crap out of half the criminal population without lifting a finger?

From the state of things, Dick’s confusion might actually be genuine. But Babs was definitely plotting something. She was a plotter. Since he was already there, he was going to find out what she was up to. Leaving Dick to finish waking up at his own pace, Jason went in search of Babs. 

When he turned the corner into the kitchen, he found Babs gripping the edge of the counter and leaning forward so her arms took her entire body weight. Catching him staring, she relaxed and rocked back on her heels. She winced slightly as her legs returned to taking on her full weight again. Before he could switch from the biting acerbic remark that balanced on the tip of his tongue for something a little more compassionate, Babs interrupted with a shrug and a lackadaisical response. “It’s nothing. My legs are a bit sore from sitting too long in the same position. That’s all.”

Jason frowned. He didn’t quite believe her, but he didn’t push. It had only been a little over a week since Babs and Dick had been abducted and faced down the business end of a gun held by a maniac that wasn’t him. While it might sound rather obvious, he didn’t trust any of the other gun wielding maniac’s out there. If someone was going to threaten his family, they would inevitably learn that they had no option but to answer to the Red Hood. Unless, of course, it was Jason himself doing the threatening, though it had been a while since he’d actively worked against the others. These days, when the urge to fight them grew too strong, he simply left town. Gotham wasn’t the only city that could benefit from his brand of justice. 

But back to the matter at hand, the family all coped with those kind of incidents differently and none of them did particularly well with the dealing. Dick wasn’t sleeping. And Babs...well, he wasn’t certain, but she seemed to be in some kind of pain. 

Babs changed the topic by handing Jason a stack of plates. “Since you’re here, why don’t you set the table.” 

He took the plates, but didn’t move. Babs opened the refrigerator and began pulling out a series of serving dishes. There was a platter of chicken salad sandwiches on bakery fresh croissants. Beyond the sandwiches was a wide selection of side dishes including a summer fruit salad and a veggie tray. Nothing she planned had been ruined by the delay in mealtime. 

“You expected me to be late,” he accused. “Is that why you didn’t say anything?”

“Jason.” There was a snap in her voice that didn’t allow him room to protest. It wasn’t angry or in accusation, rather it commanded his attention. “When I invited you over, I knew there was an equal likelihood of you completely skipping dinner as coming at all. If you came, it was also likely you’d be late to some degree. So I planned a meal that wouldn’t matter when I served it so you couldn’t use that as an excuse. You’re always looking for a reason to think we don’t want you around. That’s not true. I want you to know you’re always welcomed here and a wanted part of our family.” 

He stared at her. She really did have something planned. Just, not in the way he’d expected. Heading for the dining room with the plates, he paused in the doorway. “Your family?”

“I can’t speak for the rest of them. But yeah, Dick and I consider you family just as you are.” 

 _Right,_ _for how long?_  

 

After dinner, they had moved back to the living room. Dick sat besides his girlfriend on the couch and quickly fell back asleep, leaving Jason and Babs to compare their recent reading lists and swap book recommendations. It had been quite a while since he had someone with whom he could carry on a serious literary discussion. Somehow all of this led Babs to pulling out a _Pride and Prejudice_ themed game for the two of them to play. 

With the exception of refilling their coffee mugs, they remained like that until Babs’ computer chimed and she scurried over to the array of monitors. She was scarcely seated before she started typing. A good fifteen minutes had passed before she looked up again. Jason was still there. He sat in the same chair, though he’d snagged one of the books from her shelf and was a chapter into the tome. Dick was still asleep on the couch, curled under an afghan. 

“Well, you’re both welcome to stay, but I have to get back to work.” She answered another prompt that chimed on the screen. 

Jason checked his watch and started. It was well after midnight. He hadn’t meant to stay this long. Closing the book, he placed it on the end table as he started to stand.

“You can borrow it,” she said without turning around. 

“I’ll bring it back next week.” Pausing in the process of gathering his belongings, Jason wondered if he’d spoken out loud or if he had just thought it. Had he actually said he’d see them next week? 

Babs didn’t hesitate. “It’s already on the calendar. Let’s make it a standing invitation. Whenever you’re in town on a Tuesday, I’ll expect you for dinner.” 

“Uh, right. Thanks.” He waved the book in her general direction and exited through the window into the night air. 

Usually after spending any significant time with the Bats, leaving felt like he had managed an escape worthy of Mr. Miracle. Instead, for the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel the expected rush of freedom as he went out alone into the dark and away from his family.

 


	2. Second Course and Second Chances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick and Babs discover Jason has hidden talents when he arrives for the second family dinner. And Jason doesn’t know how to take a compliment. 
> 
> Takes place one week after ‘First Course.’  
> ——————

…beepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeep…

An alarm sounded as Jason opened the window to Babs’ apartment. He was pretty certain he wasn’t the cause of the alarm. First of all, over the last week Babs had sent him the codes for her apartment so he could let himself in. The codes had to be good. She was the last person he’d suspect of playing a cruel practical joke on him. If she was being honest, she wanted him around which meant not sending him running. Besides, even with the codes, he’d knocked first and waited for her to invite him in before entering. 

And secondly, the air was hazy. It itched at his eyes and blurred his vision. He tried not to breathe through his nose and inhale the acrid burning stench. The smoke hung heavy in the air and cocooned him with its wispy strands even though there was only enough to set the smoke detectors off. His heart raced in his chest and for a moment he forgot how to breathe. For someone who had set off more than his fair share of explosions, Jason hated the fiery aftermaths. It was easier when he wore the hood. It served as a buffer, a layer of protection between him and the blaze. With his face covered, he could pretend it didn’t bother him and no one would know any different. Furthermore, the filtration system in his mask blocked most of the smell from assailing his senses with the scent of death. He left the window open in the hope that Gotham’s attempt at fresh air would be enough to clear out the apartment.

“Hullo,” he called as he placed last week’s borrowed book on the coffee table. While he shrugged out of his jacket, his hands brushed over his holsters.

“In the kitch—ouch. Dick, grab the....Too late.” 

Jason cringed at the unmistakable sound of a pot boiling over and dousing the flames followed by the clatter of pots. It sounded like dinner wasn’t going well. Making his way to the kitchen, Jason found Dick and Barbara stumbling over each other in the galley kitchen. The room had nowhere near enough counter space. Every inch of counter was covered with dishes or meal prep.

“Where’s the frickin’ fire?” Jason surveyed the scene, taking in enough to know that dinner wasn’t going as planned. The fingers of Babs’ left hand were wrapped in a towel and she held them above her head. She grimaced at the mess that had taken over her kitchen.

“Hey Jason.” Dick didn’t grin as he relit the burner under the pot that had just boiled over. 

A timer started to beep. With her hip, Babs nudged Dick away from the stove and attempted to pull a roasting pan from the oven one handed. 

“Let me,” Jason said. He grabbed another towel off the counter and used it as a potholder. There was no space to put the roasting pan down, so Jason stood there for a moment holding the pan while Babs cleared a spot on the stovetop by dumping empty pans into the sink. He was pretty certain that part of his palm was resting against the metal pan without the cloth as a buffer, but there was no way of readjusting the towel without making it more obvious that something was wrong. So, he readjusted his grip instead, holding the pan by his fingertips as he set it down in the recently cleared space. 

Jason frowned at the chicken. “Do you have a meat thermometer?”

“In the drawer beside the stove. Dick’s standing in front of it.” Babs peered into the pan and scowled at the chicken that had definitely gone beyond ‘golden brown.’ 

Dick dug through the drawer until he found the digital thermometer and handed it to his brother. Checking the internal temperature, Jason found the results pretty much as he expected. While the outside of the chicken was more than done, the inside was underdone. He was certain that if he cracked the outer layer, the inside would still be pink. 

At that exact moment, the pot on the back burner started to boil over again. Dick glanced around the kitchen like he would find a miracle answer written on the wall. “What do I do?” 

Jason reached across the stove and lifted the lid despite Babs’ protests. He had the inkling that it was already too late to salvage whatever was inside. The bubbles began to dissipate revealing a lumpy white mush. “What are you trying to make here?”

“Rice.” She sagged against the counter and finally silenced the smoke detector through an app on her phone. 

Jason grabbed a spoon and jabbed it into the rice. When he let go, the rogue utensil remained upright. He didn’t even bother trying to stir it; it was going nowhere. The sticky mess resembled glue more than any sort of light and fluffy side dish. What had once been long grained rice was now too sticky to be confused even for sushi rice. His nose itched and he leaned in to smell it. Just as he thought, some of the rice had burned to the bottom of the pan. He turned off the burner before the mess became worse. 

“This isn’t edible,” he said gesturing to the pot. “What kind of rice were you using?”

“Whatever I had in the pantry. The recipe didn’t specify...” She thumped her forehead with her wrapped hand. Her cringe had nothing to do with the jolt of pain. “All I had was minute rice.”

He didn’t need to say anything. She knew exactly how she’d erred. 

“What about the chicken? Do you think we can still eat that?” Babs asked already fearing the answer. 

Jason pulled his lips into a tight line as he considered the options. After too many days spent wondering where his next meal would come from, he hated wasting food. “I might be able to salvage some of the meat, but it will need to cook.”

Babs shook her head. “This is not turning out how I planned. We invited you over, you shouldn’t have to salvage the meal.” 

Trapped in the kitchen by the too many bodies standing between him and the doorway, Dick sighed with his whole body. “I can order some take-out. What sounds good?”

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind.” Jason truly didn’t. It actually made him feel useful for once. He didn’t often get the opportunity to indulge in his skills that weren’t violence based. Even rarer when he got to share them with others.

“You don’t need to do that. Dick’s right, we can order in.” She wrapped the fingers of her good hand around her injured one and tried hard not to wince. 

Jason turned to Babs. “What happened to your hand?”

She gestured listlessly towards the cutting board. “I sliced it while cutting vegetables.”

Jason recognised the signs of trying to pass off an injury as no big deal. They’d all done it more often than they ought. The burn on his palm was a reminder that he was doing the same thing, though they hadn’t realised it yet. And, he planned to keep it that way. There were some questions he wasn’t prepared to answer. 

In the grand scheme of things, her cut probably wasn’t all that bad, especially in comparison to the injuries they’d all suffered over the years. But, there was no need for her to try cooking one handed when he was more than capable at filling in. What’s more, he was willing. “If I finish up dinner, will you go bandage your hand? Take Dickiebird with you in case you need stitches.” 

“Jason...no,” Babs protested as she still tried to wrest control of the situation. 

He met her stare for stare. Neither blinked. “Babs, this might come as a surprise, but you don’t have to be in control of everything. I can watch the kitchen while you take care of your hand. You can always come back when you’re not at risk of bleeding out.”

“Fine.” She peeled back the towel and examined the wound. “Come on Dick, he’s right. It looks like stitches are in order.”

Alone in the kitchen, Jason felt like he could suddenly breathe again. He crouched in front of the open fridge and rested his palm against the cool surface while he surveyed the contents. Babs had been grocery shopping recently and everything was well stocked. He could make something with what he found. But, first, he needed to clean things up so he had space to work.

In the end, Jason had concocted a meal that was a variation of one of the staples he often made when he had fresh vegetables and was about to leave town. He’d sautéed zucchini and yellow squash and tomatoes. The tomatoes added a pleasing pop of colour to the dish. While he sautéed the veggies, he boiled pasta. Timed perfectly, everything came together at the same moment. He wished he had fresh pesto sauce for the dish, but the jar would have to do. Though, he had to admit, even at home he often defaulted to the convenience of the pre-made sauce. Combining the pesto with the noodles and vegetables, Jason stirred in slices of pepperoni before placing it all in a serving bowl. 

Satisfied with his efforts, Jason presented the meal to an astonished Babs and Dick. He smirked, enjoying their gobsmacked expressions. Even Oracle with her myriad of databanks didn’t know everything about him. 

 

Dick scooped the remaining vegetables from the serving bowl as they sat around the table finishing Jason’s meal. Babs stole the last tomato from her boyfriend’s plate, popping it in her mouth before he could protest. 

“This is really good,” Dick said as he speared a piece of zucchini with his fork. 

As much as he enjoyed presenting the meal, Jason didn’t know how to take the compliments. It was such a simple meal, anyone could have done it. Surely it wasn’t worth their notice. He shrugged and dropped the crumpled napkin on top of his empty plate. “It would have been better with fresh parmesan.”

Babs raised an eyebrow. A snarky expression tugged at the corner of her lips. “Really...” 

“I mean. It’s fine. When I make this at my place...” Jason tried to backpedal, but didn’t know where he was going. He hadn’t meant to criticise her kitchen. Why did he even care?  

“I was going to say, I really don’t know how this could be better. Seriously, I can scarcely believe you threw this together from the contents of my refrigerator.”

Jason started stacking plates. He really wanted out of this conversation. When was the last time someone appreciated what he did? No. He wasn’t going to think about that. He didn’t care what anybody thought. ‘Cause caring meant they had the power to hurt you when they inevitably betrayed you. 

“Sit,” Dick ordered. “You cooked, the least I can do is clean up.” 

Jason needed to move. To get out. He’d been sitting too long. This family thing was all too normal. He didn’t do normal. Never had. 

Nothing in his life had been _normal_ since his dip in the Lazarus Pit and his resurrection before that. Which wasn’t surprising. He hadn’t known _normal_ during his time with Bruce. Nor, had anyone considered his life even approaching _normal_ when he was between guardians and living on the streets. His childhood had been far from _normal._ Even in death he’d been denied a _normal_ experience. 

Why should he start with normal now? 

He paced away from the table and stopped in front of the living room window. Resting his forehead against the cool glass of the still open window, he breathed in the night air. Without taking in the details, he stared into the distance. Jason shifted uneasily as he considered his options. He wasn’t ready to go out into that lonely night, but he didn’t think he could stay. Not if they insisted on treating him like he was capable of more than the violence that had shaped him, that had seeped into the very marrow of his bones. They acted like his life could be more than its present shadowy half-existence. 

Dick and Babs let him be as they cleared the table and cleaned the kitchen. He appreciated the space. They chatted among themselves in a low buzz. Jason couldn’t pick out the individual words, but he knew that if he turned, if he engaged in conversation, they would widen their circle and welcome him in. Maybe knowing that was enough for now. 

Not long after the clatter of dishes came to an end, Dick moved into the living room and stood beside Jason. The brothers took in the view of their city from the apartment window. Babs’ side of the city was quite different from Jason’s. Many would say that hers was better, but he wasn’t so sure. 

“Who taught you to cook like that?” Dick asked, drawing Jason back into the land of the living. 

“Alfie. He taught me during my first time around.” Jason exhaled sharply and managed only a small wince this time. These were memories he hadn’t been able to ignore over the years and they were some of the earliest ones he recalled as he had survived on his own. Though, when he spoke, his words were sharper than he would have liked. 

Dick frowned. “You okay?” 

“Headache.” Jason tried to play it off like it was nothing. “Didn’t Alfie teach you to cook?”

“Sure. He covered the basics. Guess I never really bothered with it on my own. You know how it is. It’s easier to just grab something when you need to eat...” 

“Actually, no I don’t.” This time the words definitely had a bite to them. You could never depend on food just being there. He’d gone to bed hungry too many times to take food for granted. Which brought him back to Alfred. The butler had taught him that food could be about more than survival. In his post-resurrection life, Jason had taken the effort to build on the basics that Alfred had taught him. 

“Jason...” Dick placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder while he floundered for what to say. While neither Dick nor Jason had much in the way of material possessions before Bruce took them in, Dick’s parents had always made sure he had what he needed. That hadn’t been the case for Jason. 

The younger man shrugged off the hand, but couldn’t find it in him to push the point. Before Jason could either stick his foot in his mouth or become inexplicably sappy, Babs drifted into Jason’s peripheral vision. 

“Thanks for rescuing the meal. I still can’t believe it all went so horribly wrong,” she said.

“New recipes?” Jason was grateful for the rescue.

She nodded. “Yeah. And I got home late, so I tried to hurry things along.” 

“Next time, don’t rush it. I promise I won’t runaway if the meal’s late.” 

Babs smiled. “Good to know.”

“How’s the hand?” Jason backed away from the window and dropped in a chair, ready to once again engage with the others. 

“Fine.” She blew her hair out of her eyes. “It’ll be a pain to type for a few days, but I’ll live.” 

Dick paced away from the window as he reached his quota for stillness. “What I want to know, now that you’ve shown us you can cook, what are you going to make next week?”

“Don’t you mean, what are _you_ going to make? Next week is your turn. And, cereal isn’t an option.” The words came out before Jason could stop them. They weren’t angry or bitter or any of the things he was used to feeling. It was more along the lines of brotherly teasing. Where had that come from?

“Is that a challenge?” Dick grinned, accepting it in the spirit it was given. 

Jason bared his teeth in a return grin. “Yes.” 

Babs rolled her eyes, but any actual exasperation was counteracted by her own smile. She started for the kitchen. “Fine. While you two decide who’s cooking next week, I’m going to have some strawberry shortcake.” 

“Ooh, count me in.” Before disappearing into the kitchen with Babs, Dick paused in the doorway. “Hey Jason, you coming?”

“In a minute. I’ll catch up.” Jason waved Dick towards the kitchen. He needed a moment to sort through the roller coaster in his head. There were too many memories—new and old—rattling around up there. As recently as two weeks ago, if someone had told him that the highlight of his week would be dinner with two of the Bats, he’d have laughed in their face. He wondered how long this would last. Was it worth the risk?

Reaching for the book he’d left on the coffee table earlier, he considered putting the book back on the shelf and slipping away like he’d never been there. Only, when he looked closer at the book, he found that someone ( _Babs…_ ) had replaced the book with its sequel. It was a lure he couldn’t resist. 

Okay, okay, he got the message. He’d stay. He’d keep coming back. Dick and Babs seemed to think getting to know him—accepting him—was worth the effort. How long would it take before he proved them wrong? He swallowed back the bile that burned in his throat at the thought of Dick and Babs rejecting him as well. If only.... If only what? He wasn’t certain.

“Jason, are you okay? Is your head still bothering you?” Babs hovered what felt like a step too close as she placed a bowl of shortcake in front of him. 

With a shake of his head, Jason dug into the dessert. His head still throbbed but not as badly as it had previously. He managed a lopsided grin. “I’ll be fine. Thanks.”

As he said those words, he realised that at this moment they were true. And for now, that was enough. 

 


End file.
